Hatched into slavery in Morrowind, Mizar was raised to serve the family of Arvayn Hlaalu on their plantation. He was to learn their farming techniques, and be given a hoe as soon as he could lift one. The child was only three years of age when his mother died, overworked in the fields. His father soon followed, leaving the young Mizar dependent upon his captors. Years passed as he grew into the life planned for him.

When Mizar was five years old, the plantation was visited by a mysterious figure in the night. The Argonian had taken to sneaking into the Hlaalu home about once a week, after everyone had gone to sleep. He made a ritual of breaking into the larder and cracking open a big, juicy, kwama egg, usually diving right into it on the spot. The theft had always gone unnoticed among the large shipments that came in from town. On one particular raid, however, the boy's attention was drawn by a strange, green light he saw from up the stairs. It was just a flash, but his curiosity found it irresistible. Cautiously, Mizar followed to investigate.

Arvayn Hlaalu and his wife died silently in the night, each throat sliced cleanly in their sleep. The assassin turned back to the door, only to find a small, Argonian boy blocking her path. The Altmer towered above Mizar, who looked up at her in return with large, red marbles, barely bliniking and full of fright. The tiny lizard found himself frozen in place, his tail coiled tightly around one leg while his knee quivered. Kwama egg dribbled down his chin as he buried his snout in it. The assassin smiled wickedly.

It was a simple matter of a rival who wanted Arvayn Hlaalu's land for himself. The noble would not sell, and there were few other alternatives. As Arvayn was a close relative of the Morag Tong's Grandmaster, whether or not they would sanction a writ without a more compelling motive. For this reason, the rival felt more comfortable taking the risk of calling the Dark Brotherhood back into Morrowind. Now the only one left in the way of the contract's fulfillment was Davris, Arvayn's son. Davris had never been kind to Mizar, nor had he ever been particularly cruel. The young man was always too wrapped up in his own affairs, planning to leave to study in the city of Vivec within the year, to concern himself with his parents' slaves. Now, the assassin offered the Argonian the blade and one chance to escape this life of servitude. He took both.

The Dark Brotherhood assassin, named Taelinwe, bade Mizar to keep the short sword with him always. Used to unknowingly make his first kill in the name of Sithis, it was now bound to him, she said. It was more like a claymore to his tiny arms, large and unwieldy, but he agreed, and the two immediately left for Cyrodiil.

The weapon itself was probably the most beautiful thing Mizar had ever seen. The entire hilt, pommel, and blade were one piece, black and gleaming, possibly carved from obsidian. The dual edges were bright green, slightly translucent, and razor-sharp. The blade was thin, but strong, displaying a beautiful pattern in a style the boy's limited experience could not recognize. Lines curved and cut into each other, almost like dueling serpents. The handle was square and turned 45 degrees. It was covered in scales, like those of a reptile, and ended in four claws clutching a gem at the pommel, which was cut to a fine point.

So Mizar was raised into advlthood by his family within the Dark Brotherhood. The love they professed was a different feeling from what he remembered of his parents, though those memories grew vague, and he could barely recall them at all. For the first time, he could count himself happy. He learned from his familty members their skills of stealth and combat, creation and use of poisons, and it was then that he also had his first taste of magic. They trained him well in the school of illusion, which they thought most useful. He was taught to pass any barrier, be it lock or guard, like an assassin, and to fade away after a swift kill.

Taelinwe, who had taken young Mizar under her wing, rose within the Brotherhood as quickly as her charge. By the time Mizar reached Eliminator rank, which he did with surprising speed, he was told, a Speaker of the Black Hand had chosen the Altmer as his new Silencer. From that point on, Mizar didn't get to see much of her anymore, but life went on.

One night, however, Mizar awoke to a shocking surprise. He sat up in his bed to find his family members all around him - murdered! Slowly, the glint of a long blade slid into view, illuminated by a pale streak of light. It aimed for his throat. Then the solemn face of Taelinwe appeared and commanded him to defend himself. Confused, Mizar reached for his beloved blade, gifted to him by the assassin, and they battled. As they fought, Taelinwe explained that there was a traitor within the Dark Brotherhood and she had been dispatched to purify the sanctuary. The Speaker was alarmed. The Rite of Purification was rarely employed, but this was the second time in the last decade that it had been used.

Taelinwe had quickly and silently cut down all of the others in her sleep, much as she had done on the first night she and Mizar met. She went to the Argonian last, but as she saw him, she could not bring her blade to bear. She watched him sleep for what seemed like an eternity before she finally decided to wake him. To at least give him a fighting chance. And so fight they did. Their blades clashed again and again until finally, Mizar let loose a bit of the magic he had practiced. A timely invisibility spell caught Taelinwe off-guard just long enough for him to maneuver and strike a grievous blow.

Mizar ran that night. He took to the road, bringing with him only his sword, a set of black robes he had found in the sanctuary, and some food to last him a few days. He traveled the countryside of Cyrodiil for weeks, walking the roads by night, and moving intot he wilderness to sleep at night, and avoiding the Imperial Legion patrols. It wasn't until he reached a small village called Water's Edge, just north of the town of Leyawiin, that he collapsed from hunger.

The Argonian finally awoke in a soft bed near a blazing fire, though he knew not when or where. When he stirred, a weary-looking, old man appeared and offered Mizar a bowl of stew. If he should have been suspicious of this random act of great generosity, Mizar was in no position to do so. He took the bowl and ate quickly. Only after every drop of the gravy was licked clean did he stop to offer his thanks.

Mizar stayed in that village. The old man called himself Marcel Amelion, and he offered his home. The Argonian did all the chores around the house, and outside as well, to repay his debt. There was no doubt in his mind he owed the old Breton his life. Soon, he met the other villagers. They were kind people, but very simple. The sword that Mizar carried certainly did not go unnoticed. Marcel confided that he has lost his daughter many years ago, along with all of the other former residents, to a goblin attack. The young reptilian agreed to protect the village should the goblins return.

In this time, however, Mizar preferred to turn his attention to study. He has recently become very interested in the magic school of restoration, and has learned much from some old books that Marcel gave him, and from a lot of practice. He has since been appointed as the village's healer. Since he came to Water's Edge, Mizar has has come to know a different kind of love from what he was shown in the Dark Brotherhood. In the last few years, he has earned the respect and friendship of the other villagers. Somehow, this feel much more "right" to him. It has become something worth cherishing, and it has taught him how wicked the ways of the Brotherhood really are. He has now resolved to turn from that path and to work to make up for that way of life. However, old habits die hard, as they say, and that is much more easily said than done.

Mizar is a young, advlt Argonian standing just under six feet tall, not including the length of his tail. The pale, blue scales of his cheeks are just starting to change to a lush green, highlighting the length of his smooth, slender snout, and contrasting with the rust-red that covers most of his body. His eyes and large and red, sporting the traditional reptilian pupils, and crowned with barbed ridges for his eyebrows. These grow into large, finned spines as they reach back on his head, and a bit of flesh seems to be missing from the fin on his left side, likely the unfortunate result of a past scrap.

The lean, toned Argonian has a lithe and flowing build, but it is usually hidden beneath the long, black robes that he always wears. His hands are often also covered, with black, leather gloves. Each finger has a small hole to permit his needle-like, reptilian claws. He keeps his feet wrapped, leaving only his heels and toes exposed, while he walks otherwise barefoot. His long, powerful tail hangs out the back of his robes, usually swaying side-to-side as he walks. Many scars appear on the surface, following a relatively horizontal correlation. He prefers to travel lightly, typically carrying a small pouch for some coins, another for gathering alchemical ingredients, and some food. Always with him, he keeps his only weapon - the short sword he received as a boy. It receives very little use these days, but in all this time, the blade never seems to dull. The weapon itself carries a powerful magical aura, but the charge has long since been spent. Not even Mizar knows what effect it might have had.

Tyr was born into a lower-middle class family from Dawnstar. He was the youngest son of a skilled blacksmith. He lived a comfortable, peaceful life, learning his father's trade. Until, one night when he was fourteen, their father's workshop was burned down one night by arsonists. His father was forced to sell their house and but a smaller house and workshop in the city of Camlorn, High Rock. His mother died shortly after moving to High Rock and his father became depressed and spiralled into alcoholism, leaving Tyr and his older brothers, Osten, Odin (twins) and Thor to provide for themselves and their father.
To achieve this, they became adventurers, looting the ruins which were so common in that area. Occasionally, they were mercenaries for trade caravans, merchnat ships and minor nobles. It seemed that things were going to have their lives back.

When Tyr was sixteen, he and his brothers began to work for a minor noble. They began attcking trade caravans around Orsinium and, in exchange, the noble provided lodgings (and an alibi) for them and their father. The noble became a father figure for Tyr, like the kind he no longer had. The noble taught him restoration magic and their relationship grew. By the time he was 20, Tyr had developed a hatred for the orcs he often killed and robbed, his brothers Thor and Odin, however, felt compassion for them, and secretly betrayed the noble to the authorities, the noble, in order to save himself, betrayed the brothers. When the legionnaires came for them one warm night in Last Seed, Osten was killed and Odin, Tyr and Thor were captured.

They were sent to the Imperial prison in Cyrodiil, eventually, Odin, by order of the Emperor, was released for reasons unknown, Thor escaped when the Emperor used a secret escape tunnel leading through his cell.
Tyr remained in his cell for another year until the Imperial City came under attack from Daedra, a hole was blasted in the prison wall which allowed him to escape.
Tyr lived in Leyawiin for a few months after the Battle of the Imperial City, going back to adventuring, eventually though, he came into conflict with a local Orc, Mazoga, and was forced to leave the city.
He built a blacksmith in Water's Edge, carrying on his father's trade, he named the workshop "Nordic Arms" he creates weapons and armour in the traditional Nordic style. He recieves plenty of buisiness, the Leyawiin, Bravil, Gideon (in Blackmarsh) and Rimmen (in Elsewyr) city guard purchase arms and armour from him, and he creates swords for nobles and adventurers from across Tamriel. He has become friends with the people of the village though he has never revealed much about his life to anyone.

Tyr is a stereotypical Nord, standing at just over six feet tall, he has blue eyes and medium length pale blonde hair. He has a large, prominent nose and a jutting jaw.
He shares his father's muscular build, typical of blacksmiths across Tamriel. He likes to wear loose fitting clothing. While in his workshop he can often be seen wearing a tan coloured, loose fitting shirt (always covered by his blacksmith apron), loose black pants and brown leather boots.
While out adventuring (which he still occasionally does) he wears a steel chainmail cuirass (of his own make), leather boots, occasionally, a steel helmet and a dark blue cloak. He wields a Dwemmer longsword or waraxe and a large, round steel shield. He also carries a few pouches and sacks to carry his loot, which he sells to traveling merchants who sometimes visit the town. He once had an interest in alchemy, but after accidently poisoning a few of the local sheep, he has given up the practice and turned to destruction magic (much to the anxiety of his neighbours who beleive they will wake up to find their flocks burning) he uses this skill in combat occasionally, but he also uses it for more practical purposes, such as lighting his forge.
He has a good sense of humor and is friendly with everyone in the village. He is also very apologetic towards the shepards who once owned the poisoned sheep. He has a strong dislike of Orcs though he feels a bond with fellow Nords and enjoys their company. He is also somewhat distrustful of Khajiit and Redguards for reasons unknown.

Constantine was born in the Imperial City, as the son of an Elder Councilor life was easy. From a young age Constantine received the finest education money could buy, both arcane and mundane.
In his late teens, Constantine traveled Tamriel as a crusader, doing all he could to better the lives of it's citizens no matter what race or religion.
One day, in his mid-twenties, Constantine heard of a holy prophet in the town of Anvil, the prophet sent him on a pilgrimage, upon completion ofsaid pilgrimage, Constantine recieved a vision from the gods and was given a quest from hero of man, Pelinal Whitestrake. He was to gather the Armor of the Crusader and rebuild the Knights of the Nine in order to slay the dreaded Umaril, an ancient Ayleid King who had returned from Oblivion in order to take vengeance upon the Nine.
After several months, the Knights of the Nine were victorious, and Umaril had been vanquished once more.
The Knights built a castle in southern Cyrodiil and a small town quickly developed around it, the town was named Constantium.
After a few years, Constantine the Chivalrous (as he was now known) recieved word that both his father and the Emperor had been killed and that a gate to the demonic planes of Oblivion had opened and destroyed Kvatch.
Once more Constantine led his knights on a crusade and closed the gate, but not all was well, more gates began opening across all of Tamriel! The Knights battled against the forces of Mehrunes Dagon, closing dozens, if not hundreds of gates all across the Empire, from Firsthold to Vivec and from Senchal to Daggerfall. The knights participated in the Battle of Rimmen and they aided both Martin and the Champion of Cyrodiil during the battles of Bruma and the Imperial City. Mehrunes Dagon was eventually vanquished, but the Empire fell with him and Tamriel was plunged into chaos.
In his thirty fifth year, a gate to the Shivering Isles opened in the Niben Bay, Constantine again led his Knights on a crusade against Oblivion. They failed. A monstrous creature slew seven of his knights and forced the rest to retreat. Shortly afterward, the remains of the Mythic Dawn attacked Constantium (by now a thriving city) and destroyed it utterly, Constantine and his trusty white stallion were the only survivors.
In shame Constantine dropped his epithet "the Chivalrous" and fled to Water's Edge taking the Armor and Weapons of the Crusader with him. He beleives he should have hunted the criminals but in his cowardice, he fled.

That was four years ago. In Water's Edge, Constantine built a chapel to the Nine Divines, though the patron god was Stendarr, God of Mercy. Constantine continues to seek mercy from the Nine for his cowardly actions all those years go and he also seeks a chance to redeem himself.

Constantine is just under six feet tall, he has short, sand coloured hair and brown eyes. He is lean, yet muscular.
He wears clothing which would seem unbefitting of his status as a noble. A green flax tunic, brown pants and rough leather shoes seem to be his preferred clothes. He posseses a lot of clothes made from silk, velvet and other fine materials yet he refuses to wear them, he considers himself unworthy.
He rarely partakes of combat, only when his new home is threatened does he fight, he wears a cheap iron cuirass and greeves, leather boots, an iron helmet and a red cloak. He wields an iron lonsword and an iron shield.
Though he posseses the Armour and Weapons of the Crusader, again he considers himself unworthy to use them. He would happily heal the inhabitants of Water's Edge of their injuries for free were it not for the presence of Mizar, who already holds the title of healer.
Constantine is quiet and reclusive he will aid the townspeople in any endeavour and will go out of his way to aid them. He is much liked by the people, yet he tries to keep to himself where possible.
His greates wish is to redeem himself and oncemore take up theepithet "the Chivalrous" yet he lacks the will to do so and simply waits for an oppertunity to arise...